


We wish, we wish, and all we do is wait

by MamaWouldBeSoProud



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2016-2017 NHL Season, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Drunken Shenanigans, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 05:16:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10937772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaWouldBeSoProud/pseuds/MamaWouldBeSoProud
Summary: Considering that they are both pro athletes who don't even drink that much, it's really ironic that the reason for their success, for their chemistry on the ice and them becoming an unstoppable scoring machine is a six pack of beer and a garden trampoline, Leon often thinks. Really ironic indeed.But let's start at the beginning...or: Leon is an idiot, but so is Connor.





	We wish, we wish, and all we do is wait

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluenorth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluenorth/gifts).



> This story came to be because I read an awesome McDrai-fic by the amazing viennajones. This is mostly a "thank you" to her, for all her glorious fluff and smut! Rarely have I ever struggled with a piece of writing as much as with this. I hope y'all like it anyways. 
> 
> If you are one of the people mentioned in the story or know them personally - please don't continue reading. Seriously. Just save yourself and get out while you still can. (Also - I am deeply sorry.)
> 
> I tried to stay true to the timeline of the 2016-2017 NHL season and post-season. 
> 
> Title taken from the song "Never" by All the luck in the world. 
> 
> Alright. Proceed.

 

It's not that Leon was intimidated by Connor McDavid, when he first met him. Okay, he totally was, but it is kinda hard to be in constant awe, when you stand in front of a pimply, lanky kid with a really weird hair cut and really horrible people skills and hear him stammer through his own introductions in the locker room. The constant awe comes a bit later, when they are on the ice during their first practice and Connor seems to telepathically know where the goddamn puck will go. It's actually a bit annoying _how_ good Connor McDavid is at hockey. (Not that Leon would admit that, ever.)

Leon finds it only fair that Connor is the most awkward human being in the universe. Imagine a hockey talent like _this_ , with blond hair and bright green eyes like _this_ also being really smooth and good at talking! Nobody on the team would ever get laid again if they had to compete with that.

They aren't exactly close during their first season together. Even though Connor seems to be constantly telling everyone how much he loves being on the team, it's kind of common knowledge that Ontario boy Connor would rather have played in blue and white. But he's here now and he's lighting up the score board every damn night. Leon sits next to him in the locker room and they chat here and there but that's about it. Connor McDavid is not an easily accessible guy.

Then Connor gets hurt, breaks his collarbone and all the hopes of the new kid finally bringing the Cup to Edmonton go down the drain. Connor shows up to a few games, sitting in one of the VIP boxes and grinding his teeth, but apart from “How's your collarbone, man?” they don't talk that much before and after the games.

It's at the start of the new season when it all really comes together. Pat invites them all to a team barbecue – something the captain usually does. But Connor lives in a messy apartment with Nursey and there is no way they could host anything before having a cleaning crew in there for about a month. So they gather at Pat's enormous house, a week before the first game. Training camp went smoothly and everyone is relaxed and excited for the new season, the new opportunity to make something happen.

It's still unseasonably warm and they all stand around the grill outside, giving more or less helpful comments on the state of the meat and how Pat should definitely wear some sort of ridiculous apron. Connor is relaxed and loose, even though he just had the giant oppressing “C” put on his jersey and he still looks so young, Leon kinda wants to card him before handing him another beer from the fridge. They stand next to each other, both in only t-shirts and shorts and drink their beer while they shoot the shit. Connor's arm touches his a few times, and Leon gets goosebumps every time that happens. Weird, he thinks, before mentally shrugging and taking another swig of his bottle.

Connor isn't exactly a drinker, so after the fourth beer he starts to laugh a little louder, to talk a little more and to lean into Leon, when he whispers stuff into his ear. Why there is whispering happening in the first place – Leon has _no_ idea. But he's not complaining.

It gets dark eventually and some of the older guys go home when their kids get cranky. Someone whips out a guitar and the guys with girlfriends start to snuggle up with their significant others under blankets. It's then that Connor pulls Leon's sleeve. “Draisaitl,” he says with a slight slur, “Drai, let's go on the _trampoline_!” Connor grins – so uncharacteristically wide – and points to a huge kid's trampoline in the corner of the garden. Leon snorts and shakes his head. “No fucking way,” he retorts and tries to take another sip of his beer. (He's buzzed, but he's definitely not drunk enough to jump up and down on a fucking trampoline with McDavid.)

Of course, Connor chooses exactly that moment to pull on his sleeve again and Leon sloshes a lot of beer down the front of his hoodie. “Oops,” Connor says sheepishly before giggling loudly. Leon looks at him with faux outrage. “You are _so_ dead,” he growls. Connor is full-blown laughing by now. Which is something Leon has never seen him do before. Usually his captain (wow, that's still weird. Connor is his _captain_ now!) is a model of reserve and professionalism. But now he is laughing maniacally, squeaking “Well, gotta catch me first!” and running off into the general direction of the trampoline. “Oh, it's on!” Leon bellows before putting down the now empty beer bottle and chasing after him.

They end up wrestling on the damn trampoline and even though Leon is much bulkier than Connor, he gets pinned by him in no time. They are both laughing so hard, Leon is pretty sure he is pulling some muscles in the process, but he really doesn't care because Connor is straddling him, pinning down his wrists on the black elastic of the trampoline and it feels- _good_. Real nice, actually.

McDavid lets go of him eventually, but keeps sitting on him, essentially pinning him down while they both catch their breaths. “You suck at wrestling, Drai,” Connor says and his smile is a mile wide. “Oh yeah?” Leon says and grins up at him. “Well, I grew up with a sister, so let's just say I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he responds and then starts tickling McDavid like his life is depending on it.

It's a miracle nobody pees their pants from laughing too hard that evening.

(They do end up all over Snapchat though and get chirped until after Christmas. So much for loyal teammates.)

 

*

 

After that, they are pretty much inseparable. They already live in the same apartment complex, so it's easy to hang out all the time. When they aren't at practice, they sit on Leon's couch (because there is no way he is even setting foot in the crazy hoarder's home that is Davo's and Nursey's place!) and play video games. Or they go out for dinner, sometimes with Nursey and Nuge, sometimes with Pat.

Connor is easy to talk to, now that he has warmed up to Leon. And he never seems to mind when Leon gets tongue tied because the languages have muddled up in his brain again and he doesn't remember easy words like “light switch” or “dinner reservations”. Davo just laughs and calls him “Herman the German”, before changing the topic of conversation to something hockey related. Leon _always_ remembers the English words he needs for hockey.

Nobody is more surprised than Leon when he makes Davo burst into helpless giggles for the first time during their morning skate. He wasn't even especially funny, just gave a pretty solid imitation of Nuge hogging the puck and Connor started snorting. Leon has never been good at knowing when to stop, so he keeps on going and soon Connor is buckled over and wheezing. The sight startles a laugh out of Leon and there's a weird little whooping sensation happening close to his solar plexus. He chooses to ignore it for now.

(The team starts to call him "Draisaitl, the McDavid Whisperer" soon after that. Connor flushes every time they do. Leon loves it.)

The whooping sensations start to happen more frequently. Leon might not be the brightest boy that ever lived (Although he is not as dumb as that goddamn video of him getting lectured on the German language by Ference might suggest...) but he is quite observant. He soon figures out that Connor laughing his really deep belly laugh is a surefire way to get the whooping going. It also happens whenever Connor whispers something in his ear on the bench. Or when Connor's hand stays on his shoulder a little too long, when he pats Leon as part of a “That was a really sick goal, man” speech.

He tries to figure out what that whooping means, he really does. He knows he likes Connor, but he likes a lot of his teammates and his friends. Connor is definitely both: his teammate and his friend. But Leon doesn't get any whooping of any kind when Nursey hugs him or when Ebs pats his butt in the locker room. The whooping stuff only happens with Connor.

 

*

 

Leon lies in his hotel bed after a particularly grueling game against Buffalo and thinks about the whooping. It has happened again today, when they sat on the bus in the hotel and a worn out Davo had put his head on Leon's shoulder while drifting off into sleep. And it has gotten stronger. Now Leon's breath stutters a little when it happens sometimes. Like a tiny metal fist punching him in the gut and forcing every bit of oxygen out of his lungs. It's seriously inconvenient, is what it is.

Maybe he is attracted to Connor, he thinks sleepily. He's been attracted to guys before, but usually he hasn't been close with them. He's never worried about his attractions much, he's European after all. And his hometown of Cologne isn't called “The gay capital of Germany” for nothing. He knows plenty of gay guys, has even played with a few. Kissing a dude on a dare was a rite of passage in his youth hockey team. Like getting drunk for the first time or sneakily smoking a cigarette in the parking lot behind the ice rink. (Or having your helmet pissed in by one of your teammates. But _that's_ a whole other story.)

It usually happened on the road trip from an away game, in a crappy bus with a tipsy teammate. And part of the whole ritual was to pretend being disgusted by it afterwards and laugh yourself silly. But Leon secretly always liked kissing dudes. He also liked kissing girls, and he liked sleeping with girls. Not that it had happened all that often. He was usually too focused on hockey and everything surrounding it. When a reporter once asked him if he wanted a girlfriend he didn't really know what to answer. Who the hell had time for a girlfriend? It honestly seemed like a lot of work.

He's never had sex with a guy though. First of all, he isn't getting around much and second of all – he is a fucking NHL player by now. It seems like people take pictures of him everywhere he goes, and even though he has no problem with kissing dudes – the sports world sure does. So he has watched some gay porn in the name of “research” and fantasized intensively about doing stuff to Ashton Kutcher. (He knows it's an embarrassing crush. But the whole “good American boy” thing is kinda doing it for him. So sue him – he likes 'em pretty!)

 

*

 

Thinking about Ashton Kutcher actually makes his dick stir into action, as he is lying in his crappy hotel bed in crappy Buffalo. Since he is not able to sleep anyways and also won't figure out what all the whooping is about anytime soon, he might just as well crank one out. Maybe he can sleep afterwards. He throws back the duvet and pulls down his boxer briefs, which are the only think he is wearing right now. His right hand is a bit cold, but he spits into his palm and reaches down for his cock nonetheless. The first few strokes are slow and tentative, but Leon can already feel the pressure unfurl in his chest.

He rummages around the spank bank in his mind for some fantasy to really get him going. Since he is on a gay soul searching trip tonight anyways, he'll use one of the classics starring good ol' Ashton, he decides. Namely the one with him in the shower, leaning up against cool white tiles, water hammering on his head and shoulders while Ashton is on his knees, deepthroating him like there is no tomorrow. Leon lets out a little moan and grips his dick a bit harder, while he imagines grabbing Ashton's thick hair instead. The precum and his spit have made everything really fucking wet. The slick sounds of his own hand jerking up and down are just an added bonus.

He closes his eyes and imagines Ashton's mouth stretched wide around his cock, his bright green eyes looking up at him through long lashes and- Hang on! Leon's hand falters a bit and he opens his eyes. Doesn't Ashton Kutcher have brown eyes? He wrinkles his brow before shaking his head. Well, who fucking cares. Back to business! He starts stroking again. Imagines grabbing Kutcher's hair, blond wet locks between his fingers- Leon's eyes open again. Yeah, no. It's definitely _not_ Kutcher he is thinking about anymore. Leon huffs a little annoyed. His stupid brain has replaced Kutcher with McDavid, because he thought about Davo before and now he can't really get the two things apart in his mind anymore.

Leon sighs. He's tired and he really just wants to go to sleep. But he knows his brain. It's really stubborn and he would bet his new car on the fact, that he won't get the image of Connor sucking him off out of his head tonight, even if he tried. He sighs again and closes his eyes. So be it then, he thinks as his hand speeds up once more and he imagines fucking into McDavid's pretty mouth. Connor would probably excel at this, too. Like he does with everything. He would take him so good, swallow him down and lick and tease him in all the right places. Would hum around his dick and moan, when Leon starts to shoot. Leon comes with a muffled groan and the image of pulling up Connor after coming in his mouth and kissing him until they are both out of breath.

(He sleeps like the dead afterwards.)

 

*

 

So he has a boner for his liney. Oh well, worse things have happened, Leon thinks the next morning during breakfast. It's not like he's planning on acting on it any time soon. They have a good thing going right now – hockeywise – and he has other things to focus on anyways. He likes Davo, likes making him laugh and maybe also likes to jerk off to him now. Whoop dee fucking do.

The season continues like nothing has happened. Which it hasn't. Connor and him hang out every day, drive to practice together, play video games, order food and go for a few beers. Davo laughs more often now, seems more at ease with the entire team. Nursey tells Leon that everyone gives the credit for that to him. “You made McDavid be normal,” he says one night on their couch, while Connor is in the bathroom. “I don't care how many Cups you win in your entire career – this will forever be your biggest accomplishment in the world of hockey!” Leon snorts and they restart their game of COD. It's normal, it's easy, Leon doesn't think about it too much.

One day Ebs comes into the locker room smiling like the Cheshire cat and brandishing his phone. “Look who got himself a _giiiirlfriiiiiend_ ,” he sing-songs. Turns out (after everyone scrambles to get a peek at his phone screen, like the 14-year-old girls they apparently all are) it's McDavid. Some blond girl has posted a picture of herself, wrapped around Connor like he is a stripper pole. There is another whoop in Leon's solar plexus, but this time it's more like a downwards whoop. One that makes him tape his socks a little harder than necessary and they end up almost cutting off circulation to his feet.

(Connor doesn't look at him once during practice. And the weird blotchy flush on his face only vanishes after their second bag skate of the day.)

 

*

 

“Hey, so- um. That- um...” Connor says, when Leon drives them back to their apartments. He _really_ isn't the best with words. Leon says nothing, just hums along to the Drake song on the radio. Canadians really are obsessed with Drake. And Bieber. Leon does _not_ get this country sometimes. “That picture today,” Connor finally presses out while staring straight ahead on the road. “That- she's not- uh, not my girlfriend.” Leon raises his eyebrows. “So just a hook-up?” he asks, tone light, like this is a conversation he has no problem of having without the help of alcohol. “Yeah, um, no, actually,” Connor says.

Silence. Leon throws Connor a look and takes a left turn carefully. He still hasn't figured out this huge-ass monstrosity of an SUV, but he loves it more than any of his other possessions. “Dude,” he finally groans, after Connor hasn't said anything for more than two minutes. “You gotta give me something here, man! You want to tell the whole story or not?” Connor closes his eyes and swallows audibly. He looks like he is about to shit a literal brick right about now.

“I- We have a deal. That girl and me. We- She's gay, actually.” He opens his eyes and peaks at him. _That_ Leon did not expect. “Huh,” he says. “So, what do you mean 'deal'?” he asks after a few seconds. “Like, she let's you watch or-” “Shut up, oh my God!” Connor interrupts him with a nervous giggle. “You are so disgusting sometimes, jeez!”

Leon grins. “Oh c'mon, like you wouldn't like that!” Connor's grin falters a bit. “Well, I wouldn't,” he finally says. “Because I'm gay too, actually.” “Huh,” Leon says again. Day full of surprises, he thinks to himself, before taking another turn and stopping the car. Connor looks to him in a panic. “You want me to get out?” he asks shakily. Leon stares at him. “Why the _fuck_ would I want that?” Connor looks a bit apprehensive. “I-I don't know. Maybe you hate me now or-”

“Shut up!” Leon interrupts him, but his smile is a bit of a contrast to his harsh tone. “Shut up, Davo,” he adds a bit more kindly. “I'm into dudes sometimes, too. It's not that.” He unbuckles his seat belt and opens his car door. “But there is a liquor store right here and I think we need beer for this particular conversation.” He gets out of the car and walks the few steps to the store. When he turns back he can see Connor looking completely stunned but also smiling slightly and leaning back into his seat.

 

*

 

They end up on Leon's couch (because, again: crazy hoarder's palace upstairs at Connor's and Nursey's!) and it takes them around two and a half beers each to go back to their conversation from the car. “So, you like dick,” Leon starts it, because apparently he is a smooth, smooth man. Connor blushes like a maiden and starts fussing with the label on his bottle. “Yup,” he says. “Cool,” Leon replies. They drink a bit more. “You said you- well, you too, I mean,” Connor croaks out. Leon nods. “I'm into chicks too,” he clarifies. “But also dudes.” Connor chews on his lip. “How long have you known?” he asks Leon. He shrugs. “Dunno. For a few years probably.” Connor nods. They open another bottle each.

The alcohol definitely helps. Let it be said that Leon is pretty smart after all. “How come you are so okay and relaxed with all of this?” Connor asks him at some point. He waves his hands around a bit more than normal and Leon's gaze keeps catching on his finger nails. Connor has really pretty fingernails, he thinks to himself before wondering if that is a weird thing to think. “Dunno,” he shrugs. “It's not that big a deal, I guess?”

Connor stares at him. “Dude! It's a _huge_ deal! It's a career ending huge fucking deal!” His voice gets a little louder and he licks his lips a lot. Connor also has really pretty lips. Leon scrunches up his face. “Career ending? Oh give me a fucking break!” he snorts into Connor's disbelieving face. “Yeah, it would be hella annoying to be the first one out, but career ending? Phhh...” Leon rolls his eyes. “The media would love it, the You Can Play people would probably come in their pants out of sheer joy and tumblr would quite possibly explode!” He grins. “Not that big a deal, dear Davo.”

Connor is just staring at him blankly. “You are nuts,” he finally whispers. “Imagine how much shit you would get on the ice, man!” He swallows shakily. “You would get hit so much, you'd never get to the puck again!” Now Leon is laughing. “ _Hit_? Davo, you already get hit all of the fucking time! It would probably get better, actually, because nobody wants to seem like a homophobe and beat up the gay kid. Bad publicity and all. You might actually get to touch the puck again, if you ever decided to come out!” Connor continues staring, mouth slightly ajar. (Leon would like to stick his pinky into Connor's open mouth for some reason. If he had another beer, he might actually do it. He's always had bad impulse control.)

When they finally run out of booze, they just stay on the couch in silence. Connor's side is pressed into Leon and Leon finds he really doesn't seem to mind at all. He's buzzed but not drunk and the whooping in his solar plexus has transformed into a weird humming sensation through his entire ribcage. “Hey Davo,” he says. “Huh?” Connor replies sleepily. “Have you ever had sex with a dude?” Leon asks. Connor flinches so violently, his feet on the couch table actually rattle the empty beer bottles a bit. Leon grins. “So, no?” he asks and grins. “Fuck off,” Connor murmurs ducking his head.

“You?” Connor asks him back. “Nope,” Leon replies. “Just made out a few times and once I got a handy from a guy at a bar, back in Germany.” Connor looks up from Leon's shoulder. “Yeah?” he asks breathily. Leon nods. “Was good. Bit sloppy and a bit rushed, but good.” Connor swallows again. Leon can see his Adam's apple bob slightly. He draws his gaze up to Connor's lips. Man, he wants that mouth on his cock so bad. “We could,” he starts and then breaks off. It just hangs in the air. Connor's eyes widen. “I-I don't know if that's a good- Might mess with the team and-” he stutters and Leon raises his eyebrows. “You really think so?” he asks. “No,” Connor says quickly and surges up to kiss him.

 

*

 

Leon has jerked off a lot to the image of him and Connor making out, but there is fantasizing about it and then there is reality. And reality- well, it's so much fucking better, it's almost ridiculous! Leon always liked to kiss guys, because they kiss more aggressively than girls. And Connor is no exception. Basically, Leon finds, Connor kisses like he plays. Which is to say: fast, intense, with purpose and staggeringly good.

It takes around half a minute for Connor to turn and straddle Leon and then he just licks into Leon's mouth like a person possessed. Leon's hands end up on Connor's waist, absently stroking up and down, almost calming (whether himself or Connor, Leon doesn't exactly know). Their tongues swirl around each other, while Connor makes soft, soft whimpering noises and scratches his fingertips through the short hair at the nape of Leon's neck. Connor shifts up a little and Leon's hands slide down to grab Connor's ass. Good Lord, that ass.

(What a fucking cliché, for him to be into hockey butt, Leon thinks absently. But, well, the heart wants what the heart wants.)

Connor moans a soft little moan when Leon starts kneading his butt cheeks and bucks his hips into him. He can feel how hard Connor is and the thought that _he_ did that to Davo, that _he_ is making him bite down on his lips and moan and whisper “Fuck, Leon, fuck fuck, yes-” is enough to make Leon's head spin. It will be a miracle if he can hold off his orgasm for longer than a few minutes.

Connor's hands vanish from his neck and go down to the hem of Leon's shirt, tugging on it frantically. “Up, up- just, gone,” Connor mutters into Leon's mouth. Leon giggles but obeys and removes his shirt, while Connor almost rips his own shirt off and throws it behind the couch before diving back into Leon's mouth. Leon's hands stroke up and down Connor's back now. Miles and miles of smooth skin and hard muscles underneath. His fingers slip beneath the waistband of Connor's sweatpants and he grabs Davo's butt again, but this time without any offending fabric in the way. Another moan escapes Connor's throat.

Connor lets his mouth trail down from Leon's mouth now, placing kisses and small bites all down his jaw and his throat and ending up sucking on Leon's right nipple which salutes into action. Connor's deft fingers take care of Lefty, while Leon is left groaning curses into the air. Jesus fuck, he is so _fucking_ turned on right now. And Connor keeps going lower and lower. He slides off Leon's lap and onto the floor, pushing Leon's legs apart and pulling down his sweatpants and boxers in one fluid motion. Huh. Apparently McDavid has some moves, Leon thinks before snapping back his head and groaning loudly, because Connor has his his tongue out and is currently licking in a long swipe from Leon's balls to the tip of his cock.

“Oh fuck, Con- just, fuuuuuck!” Leon moans. When he looks down he can see a clearly smug Davo grinning up at him. “Wanna blow you so bad,” he mumbles before opening his mouth and taking the head of Leon's cock in. Leon's left hand ends up in Connor's hair, while he grips a couch cushion with his right. He is not going to last long. Like, at all. Connor bops his head, hums happily and sucks in his cheeks while taking Leon a little deeper. One of his arms is curled around Leon's thigh, his other hand is playing with Leon's balls. “Fuck,” Leon groans again. “Shit, Davo, you are so fucking good at this. _How_ are you so fucking good at this?”

Connor pulls off him slowly and looks up, pupils blown huge and his lips all red, looking so obscene and pretty and perfect. “Watched a lot of porn,” he says shyly. “And I practiced. With like cucumbers and stuff.” Leon groans and quickly grabs the base of his own cock to stop from coming. “Fuck, don't _say_ stuff like that or I'll fucking come right this second and shoot all over the place.” He's actually shaking now, slowly coming apart at the seams. Connor smiles and licks the head of Leon's dick without breaking eye contact. “Would that be so bad?” he asks innocently before sucking Leon down again.

After that, it takes approximately fifteen seconds for Leon to come so hard his vision blurs. He can't even warn Connor, it all happens so fast. He just starts coming, toes curling into the carpet and a wounded noise leaving his throat and Connor Mc-Fucking-Perfect takes it like a champ and swallows him all down, lapping enthusiastically at Leon's dick afterwards.

 

*

 

There is static buzzing in Leon's ears while he comes down from his insane orgasm. He really wants to return the favor and suck Connor's dick into the next year, but he can't move at all because his limbs have given up. Davo keeps peppering his lower belly with little kisses, slowly crawling up on Leon's lap again. Leon grabs his neck and reels him in for a kiss, hard and deep. He can taste his own jizz on Connor's tongue. It should be really gross, but it's actually just a beautiful reminder that Leon had his dick in Connor McDavid's mouth just a few seconds ago. (Leon fistbumps himself mentally a little bit.)

Alright, so he needs to sack up and do something about the massive chub that Connor is currently pushing into his hip. Leon is all about fairness and stuff. He tries to will his body into functioning again, grabbing Connor's waist and throwing him (more or less gracefully) to his side and onto the couch. Davo squeaks and giggles a bit when Leon manhandles him on his back and roughly pulls down his sweatpants. “You going all caveman on me now, Drai?” Connor says with a joking tone and a massive grin on his face. (Leon can see the tiny portion of fear underneath it. Connor is trying to keep the mood light. There's another tiny whoop in Leon's stomach.)

Okay, so- light mood. He can do that. “Oh _now_ he starts chirping? Is that how it is?” he asks with raised eyebrows. Connor giggles again and squirms into a more comfortable position while Leon lets his gaze roam up and down Connor's body. He's seen this body so many times, but there are certain rules about locker rooms and the amount of glances allowed. So he takes his sweet time now, taking in all the scrapes and bruises on Connor's pale skin and his hard and swollen cock on his belly. It has the slightest of curves and it's quite long, but it's also thick, so- perfect, basically. Oceans of spit pool in Leon's mouth. He needs to put his lips on this dick right now. Then he can die a happy man.

Connor whimpers when Leon leans down and licks the precum off the tip, lets his tongue circle the slit on top. Connor is circumcised, like almost every American or Canadian Leon has seen in the various locker rooms he's been to in North America. So it's a good thing Leon's mouth is filled with spit, because it makes the whole process a lot slicker and also sloppier. Sloppy is good, in Leon's experience. Almost as good as flawless technique.

Connor's hands are flat on the couch, gripping uselessly at the fabric. Leon grabs them and places them on his head and Connor thankfully catches his drift and starts pulling at Leon's hair tentatively, while groaning out unfinished sentences. “Fuck, Leon- You- Just, so fucking good, I'm- Oh God, don't stop, like, _ever_.” Leon grins around Connor's dick and concentrates on breathing through his nose. The weight of Connor's dick on his tongue is such a fucking turn-on, he is almost half hard again.

He squeezes Connor's balls just ever so slightly and sucks in his cheeks when he hears Connor moan from above. A loud, drawn-out moan and a hoarse “Fuck, Leon!” before he feels Connor's body curl in on himself, feels his hands tighten in his hair and a spurt of hot, salty cum on the back of his throat. He swallows it down, the taste not exactly pleasant but also kind of perfect. It's what Connor tastes like. So it's great. When it's all done, Leon pulls off and lets his forehead rest on Connor's hip while they both catch their breaths.

“Fucking fuck,” Connor whispers from above. Leon grins. “That was either the worst or the best idea you've ever had, Drai,” Connor adds in another whisper. “I vote best,” Leon says and kisses Connor's hip bone.

 

*

 

They don't talk about it the next day during practice. Neither do they talk the day after that, when they are on a plane, then a bus and then the hotel bar with the other guys. Connor had left when Leon was in the shower, after their little "thing" on the couch. Clearly he doesn't want to talk about it, Leon thinks. And so he doesn't push. Mostly because he _really_ doesn't want to talk about it either.

It takes about a day for the other guys to notice that something is amiss. "You and McJesus have a lover's spat?" Ebs asks him during warm up. It hits a little too close to home for Leon to laugh genuinely, so he just grins, shrugs and skates a little faster. They lose the game and the flight back home is subdued enough for Leon to just feign sleep and ignore the unidentifiable looks Connor is shooting him across the aisle.

Maybe he was just naive, he thinks, when he finally makes it to the safety of his own bed later that night. The sex just had been so good and Connor had seemed- well, not exactly entirely comfortable, but at least somewhat relaxed and like he had enjoyed himself. They had laughed while fucking, so Leon simply assumed they were okay. Maybe he was just really dumb after all.

It gets a little better over the next few days. They start talking again, even hang out again - but never alone. Usually Nursey serves as their buffer, sometimes Patty. On their next road trip they win a game and the team is so elated they all go out afterwards, enjoying their night off.

Connor's shoulders seem less tense when Leon slinks an arm over them at some point, because apparently he is a massive idiot with absolutely no self control. They walk the short stretch back to their hotel around one in the morning. It seems only natural for Connor to follow Leon back into his room.

This time, Leon is the one sinking to his knees right there in the entryway. Connor rasps out a harsh "Fuck" when Leon pins his hips to the wall and takes him deep in one big gulp. He has taken Connor's training advice of practicing with cucumbers, in a weird attempt to really impress his captain. He can't exactly pinpoint _why_ he did it, but he doesn't regret it for one second when he hears the honest-to-God mewl Connor produces and feels Connor's fingernails scratch his scalp.

Connor comes while shouting Leon's name and pulls him up to his feet when Leon has licked up the last drop of Connor's cum. He jerks Leon rough and fast until he shoots his load between them and onto both of their shirts. They never stop kissing throughout the whole thing.

When Leon goes to clean up in the bathroom, he can hear the faint click of his hotel room door closing after Connor. It's becoming kind of a pattern, he thinks and sighs before getting ready for bed.

 

*

 

It's another week and a half before they fuck again (after another win in another hotel room). And then it becomes a regular thing. During the day, they are buddies who hang out and talk about hockey and where they will go for lunch. But on road trips, Connor will knock on Leon's door late at night. Or they have a few beers on Leon's couch at home and then Connor will mute the tv and crawl into Leon's lap. They usually make out, exchange hand jobs or blow each other stupid. Sometimes Leon will finger Connor while blowing him, but it makes the whole thing incredibly quick so he doesn't go for it that often. Even though it's exciting as hell that he can take Connor apart so easily. Usually, Leon kinda likes to draw it out and enjoy every second. They are never fully sober, they never cuddle afterwards and they never, _ever_ talk about it. (Leon starts having nightmares about huge ocean waves crushing him into a pulp. It's not ideal.)

Since they don't really talk about their little arrangement, Leon has no fucking clue what the rules are. Are they exclusive? Are they dating or are they friends who fuck? Will it end with the season and what will happen when it does? He's usually a “go with the flow” kinda guy and he rarely overthinks anything, but these particular questions seem to be stuck in his brain and creep up at the most inconvenient of times. He hates that he has no answers to any of them.

They make the playoffs and Connor gives Leon an insane blowjob in the shower. Like the one in his Ashton-Kutcher-fantasy but – since it's real and not only in Leon's head – it's a gazillion times better. Leon actually fucking blacks out for a second or two at the end. Still, he could swear he hears Connor call him “babe”. He might be wrong.

The next morning he Skypes his sister. Girls are usually more methodical about relationships and sex stuff, so Leon will have to fess up and then listen to her advice, because he is honestly at his wit's end here. After the shower bj last night, Connor more or less ran out of his place before Leon had even finished blow drying his hair. He has no idea what it all means, but it feels significant somehow. And not in a good way.

It takes almost half an hour to tell his sister everything and it still feels like he somehow missed the point, because she does _not_ look impressed with him when he finally falls silent. “You are” she says and pinches the bridge of her nose with two fingers, “the dumbest fucking fuckwit to ever breathe.” Leon tries hard not to roll his eyes. That much was expected. "Okay," he replies slowly. The explanation will follow anyways, whether he asks for it or not.

"You keep talking about what _he_ feels, what it might mean when _he_ does stuff. But what do _you_ feel?" Leon blinks. He honestly hasn't even thought of that. "Um," he replies and blinks some more. His sister looks unbearably smug. "You wanna know what _I_ think?" she asks after a few seconds. Leon exhales noisily. "Yes. Please!" She grins. "You're in love with him." He blinks stupidly again. Then he starts laughing. "Shut the fuck up, you are so stupid!" he says, but his sister's grin only gets wider. "Have I ever been wrong?"

 

Well. _Fuck_.

 

*

 

He's in love with _Connor_? He's in _love_ with Connor. _He's_ in love with Connor. No matter how often he tries this thought on for size, he always hits a brick wall in his head. He can't be in love with Connor. Sure, he likes Davo. As a friend and a teammate and probably the best liney he has ever had. It's Connor McFuckingDavid they are talking about here! _Course_ he likes him! He also likes blowing him, jerking him off, fingering him and making out with him until their lips are so swollen, they might just as well be Kardashians. He would really _really_ like to fuck Connor at some point. But love? Leon just doesn't see it.

They hook up again when they are in San José for Game 3. The play offs make everything more intense, so Davo actually sticks around after their rushed and ecstatic hand jobs just behind Leon's hotel room door. "More" Connor simply mumbles into Leon's mouth and who is Leon to deny his captain anything? They end up making out a little on the bed and blowing each other when they can both get them up again. Leon has brought lube and gets up to fingering Connor with three fingers. When he finds Connor's prostate and pushes down on it, Connor almost arches off the bed, babbling obscenities. Afterwards, they are too wrung out to even go shower and so they just lie there, sticky and sweaty on the scrunched up hotel comforter until they drift off into sleep.

Leon wakes around five in the morning. The sun is starting to rise and the light in his average-at-best hotel room is soft and golden and makes everything – even the crappy hotel room art on the wall – look kinda magical. He rubs his eyes and glances over at Connor and there is that fucking whooping in his solar plexus again. Davo's on his side, facing Leon with his head pillowed on his left arm. The light catches in his blond hair, making it look like a halo. McJesus indeed, Leon thinks and grins to himself a bit.

He has never seen Connor this peaceful, his face relaxed and calm. Connor's eyelashes look almost obscenely long when they are fanned out on his cheeks and his soft lips are still a bit puffed up from last night. Leon fights the urge to reach out and run his fingers along Connor's cheekbones.

Maybe he can kinda see it now. That whole love thing his sister was talking about. Because when he thinks about it – _really_ thinks about it – he'd much rather stay right here and watch Connor breathe slowly, than do anything else. And that must mean something, right?

But five in the fucking morning is way too early to think about heavy stuff like this, so Leon closes his eyes and simply scoots a fraction of an inch closer to Connor. He must fall asleep again at some point and when he opens his eyes a few hours later, Connor has left.

 

*

 

Maybe it's that short and sunlit early morning moment that makes it suddenly a lot less okay to not have answers to really obvious questions. Like what they are doing and where it's going and what Connor thinks about stuff. It's not that Leon wants to call Connor his boyfriend – or maybe he does, he's not sure about any-fucking-thing anymore. Maybe he really wants to wake up next to Connor and hold hands and go for brunch and dinner and go on vacation together. Maybe he wants to make out with Connor all of the time. Maybe it's driving him a little insane.

The day of Game 4, Leon goes for a morning walk through Guadalupe River Park and talks Connor into coming with him. It's the park closest to their hotel and it seems like a good spot to talk with Davo. What exactly he wants to say, Leon isn't quite sure. But his sister told him to talk to Connor, so he will talk to Connor. It's not like he has another brilliant plan for this whole thing anyways. He would have preferred a spot that's a little more romantic than a crappy park, like the beach or something. But contrary to what he had assumed, San José is not actually located on the shore. (Geography had never exactly been Leon's strong suit.)

The enormous park is right next to their hotel and there's a huge, slow and slightly brownish river flowing right through it. Leon goes for a narrow path that seems to be less used than the broad one just behind the entry gates. Connor keeps shooting him looks, but doesn't say anything as he walks right next to him, hands in his pockets and a dark blue toque on his still damp hair. He's really pretty, Leon's brain unhelpfully provides. The whooping in his guts agrees.

“Hey! Go on a date with me,” he suddenly blurts out loudly (Okay, maybe it's kind of a panic move.) and stops walking. His right hand reaches out to grab for Connor's arm, fingers fumbling in the thick cotton of Davo's hoodie. _Great_. So that went exactly as planned. (It really didn't. But then again – Leon didn't plan shit, so there's that.)

Connor freezes in his tracks, like a really horrible attempt at that damn mannequin challenge everyone in their locker room had been obsessed with for a while. Leon's breathing is a little funny, a bit off and way too shallow to get enough oxygen into his lungs. Wait, how much air _is_ actually the right amount of air to breathe? How does he normally breathe? He feels lightheaded just thinking about it and Connor still hasn't said anything. It must be at least 10 seconds now.

He tugs at Connor's sleeve a little more persistently to turn him around and get a proper look at his face. When Leon manages to make him turn, he kinda wishes he hadn't. Connor's face is- it's not exactly unkind, but sorta closed off. Shut down. Leon has been playing with Connor long enough to know what that look means. Davo shakes his head ever so slightly and Leon's stomach sinks lower and lower, before it sinks through the ground and dissolves completely. “Sorry,” Connor whispers. “But- That's not what this-” He clears his throat. “We can't do that.” There's a finality to his voice that kills Leon a tiny little bit.

He really wants to ask why, wants to argue, but he also doesn't want to have a fight or hear things he isn't prepared to hear at all. He'd rather have no explanations than know all the reasons why and how he isn't good enough for Connor McDavid. So he lets go of Davo's sleeve and nods. They turn around and walk back to the hotel in silence.

 

*

 

“Possible suspension”, “disciplinary hearing”, “heavy fine” - all words that Leon has no interest of ever hearing again, if he can help it. All words he actually never thought he'd hear about himself. He's not that kind of player, not that kind of guy. He doesn't play dirty because he doesn't need to. He's good enough to get the points anyways. And now _this_. This fucking shitshow of a game, this dirty hit, this game misconduct penalty that meant leaving his team on their own, while he had to go back to the locker room.

Todd's lecture after the game blessedly isn't too long and everyone on the team knows to leave him the fuck alone. Connor is the last one to get on the bus to the hotel and he furiously scans every row of seats before his gaze finds Leon. He starts to move towards him briskly and there might just as well be actual lightning rods shooting out of his steely eyes. It's one of the Swedes that stops Connor with a question, before he can reach him and Leon has never been so grateful for anything in his life. Out of the corner of his eyes he can see Connor being pulled into an empty seat a couple of rows ahead of his own. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against the cool glass of the bus window. Jesus, just let this day be over already.

Leon has almost fought back all of his nausea by the time he is done with his shower in his hotel bathroom. Locker room showers never really seem to get the stench off, and tonight he feels extra disgusting somehow. He rubs a fluffy hotel towel through his wet hair when he hears a key card being slid into the lock on his door. Before he can process _why_ anybody has a key card to his room, the door is being pushed open and Connor storms in, still very obviously pissed off as all hell. The door snaps shut behind him and he just stands there, staring Leon down, chest heaving, key card in hand.

“Just come in, why don't you,” Leon says dryly, before throwing the towel he used on his hair down on his bed. There's another towel wrapped around his waist and Leon kinda wishes that he wore a bit more than that. He feels _very_ naked right now. “Make yourself right at home. Anything I can offer you to drink?” he adds with a faux-sweet voice. Connor doesn't reply but stares daggers at him. Leon briefly wonders if Connor is going to hit him.

“Why. The. Fuck. Why did you fucking do that?” Connor presses out. It sounds like he has to bite down on his own teeth very hard to not scream. His fists are balled up so tight, the knuckles are bright white. “Was it because I said no to a date? Was it that? You wanna punish me for rejecting you or something? Huh?” Connor brings up his right hand and shoves Leon in the shoulder. Leon stumbles back a bit and stares disbelievingly at him. He knows that Connor isn't like this. He's reasonable and thinks stuff through. He's _never_ being a dick on purpose. Except now, he really is.

“Get out,” Leon whispers. He needs Connor gone right this second or he doesn't know what he will do. They are standing way too close right now. Way _way_ too close for Leon to decide whether he is pissed off or weirdly turned on. (Kinda both, if he's honest.) His eyes go down to Connor's crotch without him actively deciding to allow them going there. So he misses the split second in which Connor shoves him again. Harder this time, hard enough to make Leon stumble backwards and onto his hotel bed.

And then Connor is over him, straddling him and kissing him so hard, that their teeth clank together. A groan comes out of Leon's throat before he can stop it, his hands going up to Connor's sides, yanking him closer. Connor's hands are on his chest, scratching his skin and raking roughly over Leon's nipples while he continues to kiss the living bejeezus out of him. At some point, Connor bites down on Leon's lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Leon doesn't care, he just flips them over, so he is lying on top of Connor and grabs Connor's wrists to pin him on the bed.

Connor bucks up in protest and rubs his crotch on Leon's hip. It's enough friction to loosen the towel and Leon's hard cock slaps down on Connor's thigh. Leon hisses and lets go of Davo's wrists to yank on his belt instead. Connor slaps his hands away and fumbles with the buckle himself, before opening the button and unzipping his pants. Leon pulls them down with Connor's boxers in one swift motion while Connor strips out of his shirt. And then Leon is back on top of him again, rutting against Connor's warm skin and losing himself in Davo's hot, obscene mouth.

Connor's fingers are in his hair, rough and hard, scratching his scalp. Then Leon feels his head being yanked back and Connor stares at him, pupils blown wide and lips chapped and extra red. “Fuck me,” Connor says hoarsely. “I want you to fuck me tonight.” Leon has to close his eyes for a second and lean down to rest his forehead against Connor's. He can feel both their hearts hammer wildly in their chests. A trickle of water or sweat is slowly rolling down the side of his neck.

Connor's hands go from his hair down to Leon's neck and he lifts Leon's head to make him look at Connor again. His gaze is still hard and somewhat stubborn. “You wanna punish me for something? Well then, go on, do it!” He juts out his chin a little. “You wanna hurt me? _Hurt_ me!”

And now Leon has to fight away a hot burning sensation behind his eyes and he can feel them dampen, can feel something shatter in his chest. He swallows a few times, his face still so fucking close to Connor's, their bodies still touching from their chests down to their ankles. He curls his lips up into a sad little smile. “No,” he says quietly. It's almost a whisper. “I really don't want to do that.” Leon leans down and kisses Connor's lips very, very softly and very, very carefully. Then he gets up and goes back to the bathroom.

He stays in there until he hears his room door close behind Connor. His own reflection in the mirror is white as a sheet. Connor knows now. Leon has seen the realization spark up in Connor's eyes, looking up at him, right before he had leaned down for their final kiss. He knows.

Leon Draisaitl is in love with Connor McDavid. They both know that now.

 

*

 

He doesn't remember much about Game 5, even though they win. It's weirdly easy to put on a game face, cheer with his teammates and hug Connor. They are safe out here, protected by their gear and the eyes of the public. They don't have to face their own feelings on the ice, because their feelings are irrelevant. And super secret. But mostly irrelevant for this job they have to do.

Back to San José for Game 6. Leon is fighting a losing battle against a cold, and since the trainers basically put him in quarantine, it's no surprise that there is no knock on his hotel room door that night. It still hurts like a motherfucker.

 

*

 

They really make it to the second round of the playoffs. Anaheim. Which means more insanely long flights and crazy climate changes on an almost daily basis. Nothing in existence could make Leon wish for the end of the season – but when the first shock of excitement wears off, he kinda longs for a time when he doesn't have to see Connor all day, every day. Especially not with all the looks Davo shoots him constantly.

Sometimes they are sad or closed off, sometimes they are almost apologetic but then sometimes Leon could swear that there are longing glances in between. Maybe it's just wishful thinking or maybe Connor is sending mixed signals. Or _maybe_ Leon just needs to go out and get laid and forget about this sorry excuse for a love life. (He can't bring himself to do it though. Instead he watches “Babe” on Netflix and cries when the dog almost dies.)

And then there is the media with their interviews and all the questions about Davo. Apparently every reporter in North America has made it their personal mission to ask Leon everything there is to know about Connor McDavid. He half expects them to ask him about Connor's most treasured childhood memory or his preferred brand of tooth paste soon. When a German camera team arrives to shoot a feature about him, he grinds his teeth through seven slightly differently phrased questions about his relationship with his captain.

One night, when Leon feels particularly sorry for himself, he watches all their interviews on Youtube back-to-back. And if he didn't know for a fucking fact that they are super messed-up right now, he wouldn't suspect anything to be wrong. In fact, he would assume that Connor likes him at least as much as he likes Connor. But that's the thing about shit in the media. Looks can be deceiving.

They win and lose and win and lose and every win makes them so hopeful, only to be crushed that much harder when it all turns sour with the next loss. After Game 4, when Leon has already sunken into a fitful sleep, Connor calls him. Leon only sees it the next morning, because he usually has his phone on silent during the night. Connor called around 3 am. Leon has no idea what to do with this information, so he chooses to ignore it. He's getting really good at ignoring stuff. Like Skype calls and increasingly worried text messages from his sister. He just _can't_ right now.

 

*

 

It's the night before Game 6. If they lose tomorrow, the season is over. Todd has tried to push some last minute tactical advice about Anaheim into their brains and they were told to rest and go to bed early. Which is why Leon is on his couch at 6 pm, having his first and only beer of the night. Just to be able to go to sleep.

His Dad did this with him, when he was younger. Back then it was the German version of root beer and when Leon got a bit older, he mixed him a beer with Sprite. “To calm your nerves and make you sleepy,” his Dad had said and winked. Leon had felt so incredibly grown-up to drink a beer with his father. (Tonight he sends him a picture of his beer and his Dad sends one right back, even though it's two in the morning back home in Germany.)

The knock on his door is soft that Leon almost misses it. If he hadn't muted the television, he definitely wouldn't have heard it. When he finally opens the door to reveal Davo standing outside, Leon asks himself whether it was really, really stupid to mute the damn tv.

“Hey,” Davo says and smiles a little crookedly. Leon simply nods. He really doesn't trust his fucking voice right now. “Can I come in?” Connor asks and Leon steps aside to let him walk past him to the living room and the couch. Connor's eyebrows twitch a little judgingly when he sees the beer. Usually the rule is “No booze during playoffs”. Leon actually wants him to say something. Wants to have a reason to fight and scream and preferably smash a few things. But Connor doesn't say anything. Of course he fucking doesn't.

Instead he sits on the couch, takes a very long and very shuddering breath and says “ItakeitbackandIreallymissyouIwannadate” in approximately half a second. Leon needs to blink a few times and replay the one-word-sentence in his head over and over, before he grasps the meaning behind it. The whooping thing is back – for the first time in what feels like ages – but it's so intense, it makes him almost nauseous. He presses his right palm under his ribs and tries to breathe properly.

Connor just sits there, looking like _that_ (which is to say: outrageously good) and glancing up at Leon with a really vulnerable look in his eyes – which must somehow have gotten even more green, if that's possible – and it's just not fucking fair. How is he supposed to say anything in response? How is he supposed to talk at all, when it feels like his guts are getting pummeled by a little steel fist again?

“Why?” he finally manages to croak out. “Why _now_?” Connor chews on his lower lip. (Which is a job Leon should do, if you ask him.) Then he sighs and says “I- Well, okay. So- When you asked me out, I was just- I was just so fucking scared, Drai!” Connor looks down on his own knees and there is definitely a pleading tone in his voice. “I have worked my whole life to get to this point and I know you understand, because you have too. But – and I really don't want to sound conceited here – I am the _captain_.”

Connor looks up again. Leon has to put his hands in his pockets, because he has no idea what else to do with them. He feels a bit like running up and down a few thousand stairs right now. Or bench press his own body weight. Something like that for sure.

“I am the captain,” Connor repeats slowly. “It's my responsibility to keep this whole fucking thing afloat and I thought I couldn't do that when I let myself get distracted. And you- You would have been the biggest fucking distraction imaginable.” Leon scowls at that. “Are you saying I would have-” “No,” Connor interrupts him quickly. “I'm not saying you would have meant to distract me, but Leon-” Connor's eyes bore into his now and Leon can feel his heart rate speed up. “I am _crazy_ about you. I have been, ever since that fucking night on Patty's stupid trampoline, okay? I am so absolutely gone on you, that if I had to chose between winning the Cup and being with you – I would actually pick the latter. And that thought is scary as _fuck_ when you are me!”

 

*

 

Alright, so basically the entire world just shifted on its axis, but no biggie, Leon thinks slightly hysterically, before slumping down on the couch. It's all a bit much, if he's being honest and he suddenly regrets the beer he's had. Then he stops regretting because he has other shit to worry about now. “Since the trampoline?” he asks Connor weakly, who simply nods. “But then why did you-” “Scared” Connor interrupts him. “And when you-” Leon starts up but again Connor says “Scared” before he can even finish his sentence. Leon huffs. “I've been a stupid and scared little shit lately,” Connor adds with a sigh. Leave it to Davo to call a spade a spade.

“You still scared?” Leon asks quietly and Connor nods. “Like crazy. But I figured something out.” Connor smiles a little. “I figured out, that the prospect of a very long summer of us not speaking scared me more than anything else. And I also think that it's just really fucking stupid that you're in love with me and I'm in love with you and we can't get our shit figured out somehow.”

Connor gets up at that and walks over to him until they are close enough that Connor can pull him up. Leon can feel Connor's breath on his face and neck. It feels a bit like the best thing in the world. “Can I kiss you now?” Connor whispers and Leon just nods before closing his eyes and sprouting a full-body goosebump-attack when Connor's lips brush his own.

 

*

 

It shouldn't be a surprise _how_ much better sex is when there are feelings and shit. Leon actually feels a bit offended that every stupid rom-com was right about that. Up until now, their sex had been hurried and urgent. Now it's still urgent, but it's a good kind of urgency. One that doesn't mean it will all be over once they have come. One that doesn't mean that Leon will hear his door fall shut behind Connor, as soon as he is in the shower to clean up. One that only means that they need to get rid of their clothes, like, yesterday.

They are completely naked by the time they reach Leon's bedroom door and groping each other wildly when they reach his bed. “Fuck, I missed this,” Connor mumbles into Leon's mouth and rakes his fingers up and down his stomach. Leon just growls in agreement and pushes Connor on the bed, before crawling up after him and pinning him down. Connor's quick tongue licks into Leon's mouth again, while their hard dicks rub alongside each other between their bodies. It's just enough friction to drive Leon out of his mind.

“Hey,” Connor says softly, as Leon mouths at the side of his neck. He looks up at him and Davo slowly and softly puts his palm on the side of Leon's face before saying “I know I had the wrong reasoning behind it, but I actually _do_ want to you fuck me. And I want it now, please. Okay?” A harsh breath escapes Leon's lungs. “Jeez Davo,” he croaks and rolls off of him to stare at the ceiling and steady himself for a second. “Give me a little warning before you say stuff like that, alright?” Connor chuckles a bit nervously and nudges him. “But- you wanna, right?” he asks.

Leon turns his head so he can look at Connor properly. “Of course I fucking do. Are you _insane_?” Davo smiles at that, elation visible in his face. “But I don't want to hurt you,” Leon adds and knows that their minds both go back to that awful night, right after he had gotten thrown out of the game. “I never want you to hate _this_. I want to make it so so good for you,” Leon says quietly. “So good, babe. Like you wouldn't believe.” Connor closes his eyes for a second and nods. When he opens them again, his pupils are so huge that the green in his eyes is barely visible anymore. “Yes. That please. _Now_.”

 

*

 

Leon has fingered Connor before, but this time he really needs to make it count. So he puts a pillow under Connor's hips, uses way more lube than strictly necessary and takes his sweet time to open Connor up, while placing soft kisses on the inside of his thighs and along the vee of his hips. When Connor impatiently starts fucking himself on Leon's fingers while making the most obscene noises he has ever heard, he pulls them out and rolls on a condom. Connor looks on greedily and his legs fall open to his sides a little more. “Fuck, Leon, I want you inside of me so bad. I really- just, put it in me!”

“Nailing the dirty talk, Con,” Leon says with a little snort. He tries to sound mocking but of course it's still working and he is almost ridiculously turned on. “At least somebody is nailing something,” Connor murmurs and wiggles a little impatiently. And then Leon's cock is at his entrance and he pushes in, achingly slowly. Connor's mouth forms an almost comical “O” and his eyes go a little unfocused. When Leon is inside completely, he stops for a second, shaking with need and elation. “We good?” he whispers. There's sweat on Connor's forehead but he nods. “So fucking good,” he presses out and so Leon starts moving.

They find a rhythm, somewhere between slow and not-so-slow and Connor whines every time Leon hits him at the right angle. “Fuck, babe, this- Yes, _this_. Ohmigod,” he rasps out and Leon has to force himself to think about hockey statistics and his laundry to make this last a little longer. Then Connor wraps his strong hockey legs around Leon's waist and his reserve is shot to hell. “Con,” is all he manages to gasp out before pressing his face into the crook of Connor's neck and going for it. He can feel Connor's fingertips pressing into his back and Connor's hot and wet breath on his ear before everything explodes in colors and shapes and Leon forgets to even breathe.

 

*

 

He's laughing so hard when he makes the puck hit the back of the net for the third time the next night. A fucking hattrick. Thank _God_ he can sell it off as first-NHL-hattrick-ecstasy when people ask him about it later. It is partly that anyways. But it's also the thought of “So, Connor McDavid's ass apparently is pure magic and can transform anyone into a hockey superstar,” that gives him the giggles. He says as much to Connor when they lie in bed later that night, still damp from the shower they had to take after their first round of bedtime-shenanigans. (Of course there was a second round in the shower, so their fingertips might or might not be a bit wrinkly now.)

Connor grins and slaps him on the stomach but then his face goes all serious. “You know they call me McJesus, and I'll take praise about my magic ass any day of the week, but that was all you tonight, babe!” Leon laughs and reels him in for another kiss. He can't believe he gets to do this now. Gets to kiss Connor whenever he wants. Gets to scoot up to him and spoon him, skin to skin, his own nose buried in Connor's smooth neck, breathing in Connor.

It's probably too early to say things like “I love you” and “Please come visit me in Germany, when I go home for the summer”. But he knows he is thinking those things. And maybe that is enough for now. He can worry about it later, when there aren't still super important hockey games to play. And when there isn't a very pliant Connor in his arms, whose mouth is basically begging to be kissed right this second. Who is he to deny a man with a magical ass anything, really?

(He definitely has to call his sister back and endure her smugness for an hour or two and then he has to buy her something really expensive, when he's back home during the summer. Leon is thinking a car. At least.)

 

**Epilogue**

 

“Alright guys, listen up, because I hate giving speeches and I'm only going to say this once.” Connor's voice is very quiet and calm but also persistent. Everything more than a whisper seems too loud in this locker room. Too loud against the backdrop of twenty guys with crushed dreams and sore muscles. They have lost. Seven games against the Ducks and now it's done. Over. No more pipedreams about winning the Cup.

Leon has to breathe through his mouth, because their combined stench overwhelms him tonight. It's too much for his addled brain, too fucking much with the tears of frustration that seem lodged halfway up his tear ducts. It's done. No Cup. It was a long shot, he knows this, but still. It fucking hurts.

Connor lifts his chin a little more and surveys them quietly. He looks so much more like a captain now than at the start of the season. Grew into his C, Leon thinks with a proud little pang in his chest.

“I am so fucking proud of each and every one of you,” Connor continues into the silence. “I know I'm supposed to say this at the end of our season but it couldn't be more true.” Some guys look up at him now, eyes red-rimmed and sweat dropping from every forehead. “I feel beyond honored to have gone through this thing with you all and we have made our city proud. Yes, we didn't bring home the Cup. But we played two unbelievable rounds of playoff hockey and next year we might manage three of them. Or four. Or we even _win_ the fucking thing – who knows!”

Everyone of them is looking up at him now. There is exhaustion in every single face, but also pride and consolation. Connor (of fucking course) is good at giving speeches, Leon thinks. He should definitely give them more often. Connor clears his throat. “There is another thing I wanted to tell you tonight.” He shifts on his feet a little but stands his ground. Leon has an inkling that he knows what's coming and his mouth falls open in shock. It _can't_ be- “I'm gay,” Connor says. (You could hear a napkin drop in the silence that follows.)

“I'm gay,” Connor repeats after a few seconds of the entire team just staring at him silently, mouths open and eyes blinking wildly. “And I am in love with someone. So I thought you should know that, because we just went to war together and you deserve me trusting you with this information.” Still silence. Leon can hear his own blood rushing around inside of his ears. Then he realizes that everyone in the fucking room has turned towards him. “W-what?” he asks a little defiantly. Why are they all staring at him like that? Nursey has a very lopsided but enthusiastic grin on his face, Ebs looks like he just saw God and Nuge – well, Nuge is probably pulling something from suppressing a violent giggle fit.

He looks over to Connor, who looks just as confused as Leon. “Um, guys? I just told you something very important and-” “Tell me it's Drai,” Patty interrupts him with badly disguised glee in his face. “Please tell me and make me the richest man on the team!” Nuge explodes into hysterical laughter. “You put fucking _money_ on us?” Leon bursts out before he can stop himself. “ _Seriously_?” Some of the others join in on Nuge's laughing outbreak. Leon glances over to Connor again, who is still standing in front of his stall, a blotchy blush creeping up his cheeks. It makes him look much younger again.

Patty rolls his eyes but his grin is so wide, it looks like his face is about to split in two. “Jeez, of course we did. What, you think that pic I posted of you two was ironic? I meant that 'lovebird' comment and I still stand by it. So could you please do the honors and confirm it and-” “How did you _know_?” Connor blurts out. His hands are shaking when he rakes them through his sweaty hair. Every single player turns to stare at him instead of Leon. “You fucking kidding me?” Nursey grunts.

Leon feels an inappropriate giggle form in his windpipe. “I mean, you were super obvious?!” Nuge presses out in between laughs. “I'm the only one who definitely called it though,” Patty says with a smug face, while he collects the bills being passed along to him. “I will buy myself a nice steak dinner with this,” he adds and waves the money around.

Connor just blinks a few times, blush still very much present on his face. And then – he throws back his head and laughs loudly. That deep belly laugh of his, that Leon loves so much. It's enough to make Leon laugh as well before getting up and walking over to Connor. “Let's give the kids what they came to see,” he says and pulls Connor down for a kiss. It's chaste and sweet but still enough to elicit a load of groans from their team mates. “ _Gross_ ,” Nursey mumbles. “It's like my parents kissing or something.” A wadded up sock hits Leon in the back of the head when he finally pulls back.

Connor smiles down at him. “Good?” Leon whispers. “So good, babe,” Connor replies.

 

***

 


End file.
